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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029485">The Brightest Shadow</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dankmemewhore/pseuds/Dankmemewhore'>Dankmemewhore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), BAMF!Reader, Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Super soldier reader, enhanced!reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:01:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dankmemewhore/pseuds/Dankmemewhore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After being taken by HYDRA as a young teenager, you are finally able to make your escape thanks to your long time partner, the Winter Soldier. As you fight to stay alive after being captured by SHIELD you meet the number one enemy of your former organisation: Captain America. Determined to find your old partner and help him make his own escape you and Steve Rogers work together to take down HYDRA once and for all. You just never thought as an ex-assassin you'd be saving the world so often.</p><p>A retelling of my story Winter's Shadow. This story follows you through the Marvel Universe starting with Captain America: The Winter Soldier through Avengers: Endgame.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Avengers Team/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20728712">Winter's Shadow</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dankmemewhore/pseuds/Dankmemewhore">Dankmemewhore</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a straight up re-telling of my previous story Winter's Shadow. If you haven't read it, don't worry. If you did read it and found yourself thinking that there was mad chemistry between Steve Rogers and the Reader, then this is the story for you. A lot of the writing stays the same, but there are some big changes due to the romantic shift. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your movements are absolutely silent as you slip in the twentieth story window and come up behind the target; one quick snap of your wrist and the metallic scent of blood fills your nostrils. The target gurgles helplessly for a moment, clutches at his throat in vain, and then slumps forward. The dull thud of his head hitting the wooden desk gives you pause, and your eyes snap to the door waiting for one of the guards you knew waited outside to come in and catch you in the act, but the door remains shut. </p><p>Turning back to the body, you gather a handful of the crisp white fabric of his dress shirt into your fist and clean the blood off of your knife before slipping it back into the holster on your ankle. With that done you grab a handful of his hair and lean him back in the chair before kicking it out of the way, allowing you access to the computer. You tear your eyes away from the bloody gash of the man’s throat and focus on the task at hand. You unsnap a small pocket at your shoulder, and pull out a nondescript flash drive. You take it, plug it into the back of the computer and then reach for the keyboard. You hesitate for a fraction of a section as you note the blood pooling in the shallow indentations of the keys, and then snap yourself out of it and pull up the command line.</p><p>“That was messy,” You glance over your shoulder; the soldier sits crouched in the window, his cool blue eyes look out from curtains of dark hair. You roll your eyes and look back at the screen.</p><p>“Even silenced gunshots are still gunshots,” You reply faintly, “Unless you feel like taking out his private security army downstairs.” There shouldn’t have been any extra security, besides maybe a bodyguard, but someone had tipped the man off that someone was after the information he had. It seemed to you that nowadays every mission you went on had some kind of catch. This one just happened to have thirty armed men waiting for something to happen to the man who now sat slumped in his chair, throat opened in a grotesque smile. </p><p>“We could,” You don’t turn around, but you can picture the expression on his face. His brown would be furrowed, his lips turned down in a slight frown. Torn. </p><p>“Yeah, well we don’t need to,” The file transfer hits 100% and you pull the drive out, returning it to the pocket. The Soldier was the more trusted asset, but you were better with technology. “The man outside has three kids. It’s not his fault his boss got wrapped up in the wrong shit.” </p><p>“That shouldn’t matter,” Now you do turn around, and his expression is just how you predicted. When his eyes meet yours he drops them, staring at his hands clenched in his lap instead: one flesh, one metal. “Neither of us should care. We’re not supposed to care.”</p><p>You wet your lips; he had been wiped relatively recently, after attacking one of Hydra’s doctors. The cold, rigid, compliance had faded, but it had left confusion in its wake. You clap your hand onto his shoulder, the muscle underneath is tense beneath the Kevlar. “Come on,” You tell him softly, “Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>He looks at the mess you left at the computer and the nods once, before falling backwards out of the window. The thought crosses your mind that this time he might not catch himself, not for the first time. And like every other time the certainty that you would follow him into death soothes you. A few seconds later you see the rope go taut. You give him another few seconds and then you too let yourself fall; the wind slaps against your face and you close your eyes, enjoying a few seconds of free fall before you reach out and grab the rope with one gloved hand. Your momentum comes to an abrupt stop, your shoulder crying out at the action. Your feet brace against the wall of the building for a half a second before you repel yourself off, letting the rope run freely through your hand until you catch yourself a few feet before the ground. </p><p>“I bet you felt that,” The Soldier nods to your shoulder, “You should be more careful.” </p><p>You let yourself drop, and give him a grin, “Couldn’t help myself. I love that feeling. It’s been too long since we’ve had to skydive.” You start to pull down the rope, but the Soldier shakes his head.</p><p>“Leave it. We’ll be long gone before anyone notices it.” You both put on the masks that cover the lower half of your faces and walk around to the back of the building, though you don’t see a soul. The soldier climbs on the back of the sleek black motorcycle illegally parked in the alley and you settle into the seat behind him. </p><p>He’s silent as you ride out to the cornfield where you were scheduled for your pick-up so you follow his lead and keep your mouth shut. You knew it was better when he was like this it was best to let him work through it on his own; his memories of you were often affected, making them seem hazy and unclear. He had lashed out at you before. </p><p>You untuck your face from his shoulder as you notice the bike slowing down, and look around confused. “We’re getting picked up like six miles east of here,” You frown as he comes to a complete stop on the side of the road, “Something knock your sense of direction out of whack Soldier?” You laugh despite the uneasy feeling that had settled over you. </p><p>Ignoring you, he climbs off the bike and you quickly follow suit, staring at his back as he stands there silently. You swallow reflexively, despite the fact that your mouth was suddenly dry. “What’s going on Soldier?” </p><p>Finally he turns around, his combat knife clutched in his flesh hand. Your gun is drawn in a flash, and your jaw clenches as you level the sights at his head. Your finger is at the trigger, ready to pull it at the slightest movement. It’s just pure reflex. If the thought that the Soldier might off himself had crossed your mind before, the next one had as well: HYDRA had told him to kill you, and he was still too fresh to be able to question it. </p><p>You wildly imagine the ticking of a clock as the two of you stare each other down. You wondered if you would shoot him if he came at you; you would like to think you would surrender your life for his, but instinct and reflex both ran deep. </p><p>After what feels like hours but could only have been a handful of seconds the corners of his lips quirk up ever so slightly and he lifts his hands, palms out so you can see the now loose grip he keeps on the knife. “Relax,” He says, amusement creeping into his voice, “If I was gonna take you on I sure as hell wouldn’t do it with this.” He nods his head towards his weapon to punctuate his words, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. </p><p>You realize that he still sees you as a threat as well; it’s disorienting when you knew that a few months ago, before his memory had been tampered with once again, that the trust between the two of you was implicit, imperishable. You keep him in your crosshairs for another breath, before you lower your gun. “Thought we had at least some semblance of trust.” You can hear the hurt beneath the weak joke and realize that on some level he still remembered your former relationship as well, more than HYDRA would like him to at least. </p><p>“Yeah, well you’re not <i>always</i> you,” You remind him, holstering your weapon, “Now will you please tell me what the hell is going on?” </p><p>He pauses, an internal battle waging behind his eyes, “Something is going on,” the words tumble from his lips as he fights back a grimace, “Something big. It’s time. Like we talked about before. Right? We’ve talked about it?”</p><p>A hundred times throughout the long years, you want to tell him, but the implications of his words have stunned you into silence. The slow nod that you give him feels insufficient, but he accepts it without further comment. “Let me see your arm,” he commands, and you lift your left arm, a question in your eyes that he reads easily. “I’m going to cut out your tracker,” he pushes your sleeve out of the way and positions the knife a few inches below the crease of your elbow, “Try not to shoot me.” Your eyeroll turns into a grimace as he digs the blade into your arm. You grit your teeth and look away as hot rivets of blood cut down your skin as he digs the knife around, looking for the chip. He finds it after about a minute, and you let out a sigh of relief as the blade leaves your flesh, the tracking chip with it. </p><p>“Worst surgeon ever,” You pull your sleeve back down over the unsightly wound, hoping that the tightness of the fitted fabric will stifle the bleeding. The Soldier tosses the tracking chip high into the air, and in the same motion pulls his pistol and fires a well placed bullet, obliterating the small plastic chip.</p><p>“Let me see the drive,” The Soldier says, and you hand it over, thinking he’s going to shoot it as well. Instead he slips it in his own pocket. “Alright,” You frown, confused now, “Your turn.” You reach for your own knife but his hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, stopping you.</p><p>“No,” The Soldier says as you look up confused, “This is your chance. You have to go.” </p><p>“What?” You shake your head, “What the hell are you talking about? You’re coming with me,” You move towards your knife again and his grip tightens, “I’m not going without you. Don’t be stupid.” </p><p>“I can’t.” You had known the Soldier for a long time, you had seen him everywhere between full compliance to some semblance of what you imagined the man he had been before had been like. But if there was one thing that was consistent about the Soldier it was the fact that he was a cool customer; you may see a glimmer of amusement here or a hint of anger there, but you had never seen his face so open and honest and painful as you did with those two words. Without warning he reaches out and grabs your shoulders, his pale eyes wide as he looks into yours. “They’re inside my head (Y/n),” his voice is only a whisper but each word hits you like he had screamed it, “I can’t. I can’t trust myself. You can’t trust me. You need to go. You can go.” </p><p>“No,” You clench your jaw, “I won’t.” </p><p>He smiles then, the only time you had ever seen that expression on his face, and for the briefest of seconds you think that you had convinced him. Then his metal fist rushes at your jaw and sends you sprawling backwards into the dirt. Black spots curl in front of your eyes but you fight through them, scrambling back to your feet, but it’s already too late: the bike takes off, kicking up dust in its wake, and the Soldier is gone.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>For a long time you just stand there and stare off in the direction he had disappeared from, the pain in your arm was nothing compared to the storm of emotions that swirled within you; too many and too powerful to even name. On top of that, you didn’t know what to do. You had no plan. No ideas. But you needed to move away from your last known location: that was priority one. </p><p>With that decided, you start walking west, following the road until the loose dirt beneath your feet becomes pavement. Plans flitted through your mind, but nothing went beyond surface thinking: you were sure there were plenty of jobs for someone with your skill set, but you weren’t sure how to find them. And you sure as hell weren’t going to find them in Cornfield, Wisconsin. Your jaw felt tight where the Soldier had hit you and you didn’t need to probe the area to know that it was rapidly swelling. You needed money. Food. Water. A car. And you could sure as hell have used a Soldier. You were going to give him a nice left hook if you saw him again. When you saw him again. When night falls you cut into a field of tall grass and lay beneath the stars. The cold is bitter as frost forms on your exposed skin, and your arm throbs painfully but all of it pales beneath the feeling of your first taste of freedom.</p><p>The next morning you rise at dawn, wiping the beaded dew off of the surface of your body suit and weapons. You’re not terribly thirsty yet, but you can feel the threat of it lurking in the back of your throat. </p><p>It’s a pleasant enough walk when you reach the road once more, and you’re fairly certain you should reach some sort of civilization by the end of the day at the pace you’re making. That’s until mid-afternoon, when the sun beats down on you from directly above, making the tickle at your throat into a deep burn. You can feel the skin on your face reddening beneath the rays; even your enhanced genetics can’t beat constant sun exposure like this.</p><p>When the sun finally begins to dip to the horizon, you start to feel, not nervous, but on edge. At first you’re not sure what’s causing the reaction, and then you recognize the low hum of an engine in the distance. The land is flat so it’s hard to identify exactly where it’s coming from, but it’s definitely within a few miles, and coming from behind you. </p><p>Your instinct is to get off the road, but you force yourself to keep walking; this was a road after all, there were bound to be at least a handful of travelers passing through. Still, you’re not paranoid if there really are people after you. You slow your pace slightly and cock your ear in the direction of the rising hum; not just one car, you decide, three? Four? It didn’t matter exactly, either way after miles of empty road the new additions had you on edge. HYDRA couldn’t have found you this quickly though--the Soldier wouldn’t maybe be back on base now, at the earliest. Unless they had operatives stationed close by… The cars are close now and you turn around, walking backwards as they come into sight. Your hand drops to your gun as you take in the formation of black SUVs headed your way. There were six, not four, and if the roaring of their engines was any indication they had already seen you. </p><p>There was nothing but empty land on either side of you now, nowhere to escape to. You take a deep breath, pull your pistol, and drop to one knee. What you wouldn't give for your rifle right now, you think mournfully. Your only choice now was to get them close and hope for the best. With the wind conditions you judge a half a mile to be a safe distance, and you fire four bullets in rapid succession; they hit true, taking out the first two van’s front tires. Two more shots, and the other van’s front tires start emitting smoke. The trucks come squealing to a stop thirty feet from you, and the doors pop open seconds later spilling men into the road. You shoot the first one out the door and then pop your second clip in, taking out two more with clean headshots. </p><p>Your ears are ringing from the sound of bullets, so you see the van coming from the opposite directions before you hear the squealing of it’s tires. Cursing, you roll out of the way and then shoot the driver before he can open the door. With five bullets left you turn back to the original group. Now it’s all strategy. You take out two beefy guys who’s bulging muscles spell trouble, and then spin; the passenger of the sixth van swings a rod crackling with electricity at you and you jerk backwards just out of reach before shooting him twice, first in the stomach and then in the head. </p><p>Now you were in trouble; you turn again just in time to dodge another of the rods, you fire your last shot into the body of the closest man and then smash the butt of the empty pistol into the next man to reach you. You grit your teeth as his blood splatters across your face like grisly freckles. Now you’re surrounded and you let out a low growl as someone lands a hit with the electric rods they carry; you spin and punch the one who had hit you, feeling the bones of his face give way under your knuckles, and then duck out of the way of another rod. You can’t hear the crackle of electricity, but you can feel it on your skin as it passes just over your ear. Another rod hits the back of your legs, and you drop to one knee. The man in front of you swings it at your head and you block it, taking the shock to the arm instead of your already injured face. It doesn’t matter, there’s too many of them. This was as pretty an ambush as you had ever seen, and you had been a part of plenty. You manage to cut the legs out from another one of the men and then all you see is the butt of a rifle before everything goes dark.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing that you’re consciously aware of is that you’re walking. You’re not 100% sure <em> how </em> you’re walking, as every part of your body feels distant and hazy from you, but there’s no mistaking the somewhat steady forward movement. </p>
<p>The second thing you’re consciously aware of is the <em> pain </em>. Between your jaw, your head, and your goddamned arm, it was a regular pain trifecta. Good. You focus on the pain, letting it sharpen your senses. Subtler things come to you now, the tight grips on your arms wrenching you forward, the bright lights beyond your closed eyelids, and the haze of sedative coursing through your veins. For now. You could feel your enhanced body quickly metabolising the drug as each second went by, your appendages were starting to feel more and more like arms and legs instead of dull clubs. Your shoulders were beginning to throb with a dull ache; your arms were twisted and cuffed behind your back.</p>
<p>Okay. You breathe evenly through your nose, giving no outward signs that you were anything less than the sedated lump they thought you were. Your weapons were gone, obviously, the weight of your holsters were gone. You still had your kevlar body suit on, so that was a plus, but they had found your hidden knife as well; the comforting tuck of it against your ribs was achingly absent. </p>
<p>That didn’t give you many clues though, anyone who had captured you would naturally search you. Dispose of any threats. The biggest clue was actually the sedative; anyone HYDRA had sent after you would’ve known to at the very least quadruple the amount of sedation. They hadn’t. Curious now, you peek out beneath your lashes. Your eyes immediately catch on a SHIELD logo. That wasn’t great, but it could be worse. You let your eyes open completely but keep a glazed expression on your face. The agents around you were all armed. You were cuffed, slightly drugged, and in completely unfamiliar territory. And you were definitely going to escape.</p>
<p>One of the men notices your open eyes and stops abruptly, “Sir, the prisoner…”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” The man on your right releases your arm and comes to stand in front of you, measuring your expression. He’s the same one who had knocked you out; you could feel the dried blood on your face still, they hadn’t bothered to clean you up. “She doesn’t even know where she is, she’s so fucked up.” To demonstrate his words he slaps you hard across the face, and it takes everything you have to not rip his fucking head off. You may be cuffed, but you still have teeth. Instead you fight to keep the blank look in your eyes. Blood flows over your lips from your possibly broken nose, but you don’t move to wipe it. It was just a waiting game now, and you weren’t going to play your cards yet.</p>
<p>He takes your arm again and you begin the forward shuffle, letting them drag you along. When you turn the corner and see the elevator doors you breath an internal sigh of relief; now this you could work with. Only so many people could fit in an elevator, and the guards would be more hesitant to fire their weapons in such an inclosed space. The cuffs would be a problem, but you could work around that.</p>
<p>“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site,” The man holding you says as the elevator doors slide open. He shoves you inside and then steps in, grabbing your arm once more. “Cap.” </p>
<p>Your eyes widen as you take in the tall blonde man standing in the elevator, you couldn’t help it. You were less than three feet away from one of HYDRA’s top targets, and you had absolutely no need or desire to kill him. It was funny how life turns out sometimes. </p>
<p>“Rumlow,” Rogers responds as the elevator doors close once more. He eyes you curiously and you meet his gaze with an impassive one of your own. You wondered what you looked like to him, covered in blood with a swollen face. You couldn’t imagine it was good. “Who is she?”</p>
<p>“A HYDRA assassin,” Rumlow states, his grip tightening reflexively on your arm, “I’m headed down to interrogate her now.” Rumlow. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but it wouldn’t matter much longer. If you had your way he wouldn’t be alive much longer.</p>
<p>“Right,” Rogers replies, lips pursed in what looks like disapproval, but before you can tell for sure he’s no longer looking at you. The elevator stops again and more agents climb in. Your window of opportunity is getting slimmer and slimmer. You’re forced against the glass wall of the elevator, and you eye the drop. Enhanced or not, you wouldn’t survive a jump from this height. Maybe a little farther down… Though knowing SHIELD the glass was probably missile proof or something. And that was without the added element: Steve Rogers. You were pretty positive that no matter how good you were, and you were damned good, you weren’t fighting Captain Stars and Stripes with both hands behind your back and coming up on top.</p>
<p>On the other hand, when Rumlow got you to wherever he was taking you the chances of your escape dropped exponentially. This could be your only shot. Decisions, decisions.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury,” Rumlow says, “Messed up, what happened to him.”</p>
<p>Fury, Nicholas. Another top target for HYDRA, and the Soldier’s most recent assassination, just before your last little mission. You had been busy with the rebel leader with a burgeoning resistance in the Middle East at the time. “Messed up, what happened to him.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Rogers responds absently; he’s looking around the elevator now, a small frown on his lips. You follow his gaze curiously from an agent gripping his gun to the bead of sweat that runs down another man’s temple as grips a briefcase with white knuckles. The elevator doors open once more, but you don’t look away from the Captain’s face; a look of resignation settles into his handsome features and he seems to steal himself for something. </p>
<p>The elevator is eerily silent for a moment, and then he speaks up again: “Before we get started, does anyone want to get out?” </p>
<p>You would very much like to get out, but he’s not exactly talking to you. In fact you’re not sure who he’s talking to, or what exactly is going on. </p>
<p>As if his words were a signal, the last man to get in the elevator extends an electric rod, the same type that had been used in the ambush on you. The men attack Rogers, pinning him to the wall, while you watch stunned. This was your chance to get away but you couldn’t help yourself. Rogers manages to kick one of his attackers and he easily gains the upper hand, sending an elbow into the one holding him from behind and then throws him over the head. Another agent gets a hold of him, pinning him to the wall with some kind of magnetic cuff. Rumlow releases you then, extending his own rod as he approaches Rogers, and that snaps you out of it. </p>
<p>You turn to the man closest to you on the right and slam your head into his, hard enough to send him slumping to the ground; the two agents not on Rogers turn to you. You duck out of the way of a swinging rod and swipe the legs out from under the swinger with your leg. You bring your knee up slamming his face with it and then hop to your feet, eyeing the last man with a small smile on his face. You fake left and then twist your body around him and land your foot in the small of his back. He stumbles forward hitting the glass wall, and then crumples to the ground.</p>
<p>You turn back to Rogers then; Rumlow’s got him, and Steve grimaces as the electricity courses through his body. You jump into the air, sending a kick straight into Rumlow’s ribs. Rogers takes the opportunity to rid himself of the cuff and free once more he punches another agent in the face while you kick the other hard in his chest and hear the crack of bone. </p>
<p>Rumlow’s back on his feet, a rod in each hand, and his eyes shift from you to Rogers. “I just want you to know Cap,” he says, “This isn’t personal--” On the last word he lunges forward, hitting Roger’s in the stomach with one of the rods. He swings the other at you but you’re ready and you throw yourself at him, knocking him into the glass wall of the elevator. Cracks radiate outward from the impact, clearly not missile-proof glass after all. </p>
<p>You don’t give him time to recover, you hop to your feet, draw your knee back and slam it into his face. His nose cracks with a satisfying crunch and you do it again. This time his head lolls forward as he slips away into unconsciousness. You draw your knee back again, and then a hand claps onto your shoulder. You spin around; you had almost forgotten the other occupant of the elevator. </p>
<p>“He’s not getting up anytime soon,” The Good Captain tells you, “And we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Are you HYDRA?”</p>
<p>You take a moment, wetting your lips with your tongue before you answer. All you taste is blood. “It’s a long story,” You say finally, “But not anymore.” You don’t have time to consider your next decision so you turn around and wiggle your cuffed fingers at him. You hear him move, and for a brief second you’re not sure what’s going to happen. Then his shield comes down and breaks the chain, freeing your hands. </p>
<p>“Thanks,” You say turning back around.</p>
<p>“Don’t mention it,” He replies, turning to the door. You drop to the ground and grab a pistol off one of the agents. Rogers pries the door open, which you could’ve told him was a mistake: outside a team of agens stand waiting, weapons trained on the both of you.</p>
<p>“Drop your weapons!” Someone yells, “Put your hands in the air!” You raise your pistol and then Rogers twirls in the air, cutting one of the wires of the elevator. You stumble back, as the elevator drops into freefall. After a handful of seconds the breaking mechanism kicks in and the elevator grinds to a halt with another six or seven stories to go. </p>
<p>“Really?” You mutter as Rogers goes for the elevator doors again. You’re halfway between floors, but you can see the agents feet before Steve lets the doors shut again. “Looking for an escape plan?” You lean against the fractured glass wall, crossing your arms. “Cause there’s only one way we’re getting out of this.” </p>
<p>To his credit, he doesn’t even hesitate. One long stride and he jumps through the glass wall, shield first. You take a deep breath and then launch yourself out as well. The wind stings your face as you fall; Rogers hits the glass ceiling below, saving you the trouble and then you hit the ground in a poorly controlled roll that leaves you sprawled on the ground. </p>
<p>“Fuck,” You breath shakily, getting one leg beneath you, then the other. As you brush the broken glass from your tactical suit with bleeding hands you look up to see Rogers staring at you with wide eyes.</p>
<p>“Jesus--I was going to catch you if you’d given me the chance,” His voice hardens, “You shouldn’t have been able to survive that.” </p>
<p>“We can talk later,” You assure him quickly, “But right now we need to move.” He seems to consider it and then nods. He sprints off and you follow close behind him, gun drawn. He heads into a garage and climbs onto a sleek black bike. Ignoring the unpleasant thought of your last motorcycle ride you climb on behind him. You just have time to wrap your arms around his waist before he speeds off. The cool metal of his shield feels good against your hot swollen face, and you try to just focus on the positives. You were pretty much out of both HYDRA and SHIELD hands, and it didn’t seem like Rogers on good terms with either party. </p>
<p>The doors to the garage begin to close and Rogers just manages to squeeze between them before they snap shut. In the distance you can see spike traps rising on the road; overhead a quinjet flies past before doing an abrupt turn to face you in the air. “Stand down Captain Rogers,” A voice shouts over a speaker, “Stand down!”  </p>
<p>He doesn’t stand down. He drives the bike recklessly fast, evading the spray of bullets from the jet. Rogers reaches between you and grabs his shield which he flings into the propeller of the plane. Without a word he leaps off the motorcycle and onto the back of the jet. </p>
<p>“Shit Rogers,” You curse as you slide forward, taking control of the bike before it tips. You keep it close as he begins hacking at the jet with his retrieved shield. You swerve out of the way as the jet goes down and he dives off it, landing on the back of the bike with an impact that almost sends you spiraling out of control. You manage to steady it and you slam on the gas, focused on safety. </p>
<p>“So,” You slow as you hit the city streets, “Any reason SHIELD is trying to take out its golden boy?” You ask conversationally.</p>
<p>You feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck as he sighs, “Not that I know of. Something’s going down. Something big,” A shiver runs down your spine at the familiarity of his words, “I need to get to the hospital, I left something important there.” </p>
<p>“Hospital it is,” You say with a grimace, “I could probably use one of those about right now anyways.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You stand at the rear entrance of the hospital, shrugging into the thrift store clothes Rogers had picked up on the way. You use the inside of the flannel to wipe some of the fresher blood off of your face and then slide it on, buttoning in with deft fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m decent,” You call quietly to Rogers who stands several feet away, eyes pointedly away from you. Charming. “What do you think?” You ask as he turns to face you, “Little less macabre?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s...better,” He says doubtfully, “Here.” He hands you a pair of sunglasses and holds out his hand for your suit. You hesitate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want this back,” You tell him firmly, “So don’t go losing it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have my word.” You can’t tell if he’s being funny or not, but you hand it over. You tuck your pistol into the waistband of your pants and pull the bottom of the flannel over it. It looked like you had a gun under your flannel, but, hey, at least they won’t notice your black eyes. You slip on the sunglasses. “That should do it. Ready?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still don’t know exactly what we’re doing here, but sure. Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You follow him silently as you walk through the halls of the hospital, watching for any hint that HYDRA and/or SHIELD were already here. He stops in front of a vending machine, peering intently inside as you watch bemused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this really the time?” You hiss, earning an eye roll as he kneels down in front of the machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s gone,” He stands up with a sigh, “Someone’s been here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gives the vending machine another hopeless look while you whirl around at the sound of too quiet footsteps, gun drawn. Behind you stands another familiar face from HYDRA’s files: Natasha Romanoff, a.k.a. Black Widow. Her posture is perfectly nonchalant; she blows a bubble with her gum before placing one hand on top of your gun and pushing it towards the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy there tiger,” She drawls, I’m not here to fight.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rogers pushes past you and grabs her, his face heavy with anger, he pushes her into an empty room and you follow behind, locking the door behind you. Roger begins questioning her, while you look around until you find a suture kit. You don’t understand most of the conversation, having no background, but you gather from the context that she has something that he wants and he doesn’t trust her whatsoever. Understandable, really, as she did have quite the checkered past. Not that you were one to talk, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know who killed Fury,” Romanoff is saying as you carefully stitch up the wound on your arm, “Most of the intelligence community doesn’t believe he exists. Those who do call him the Winter Soldier.” Your head snaps up at that, the needle held loosely between your fingers. “He’s credited with over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he’s a ghost story,” Rogers scoffs while Romanoff shakes her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Five years ago I was escorting a nuclear engineer out of Iran, somebody shot my tires out near Odessa. We lost control and went straight over a cliff.  I pulled us out, but the Winter Soldier was there. I was covering the engineer so he shot him straight through me.” She pulls her shirt up to show a small scar on the side of her stomach. “Soviet slug, no rifling. Bye-bye bikinis.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I bet you look terrible in them now,” Rogers deadpans and Romanoff’s lips quirk up slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Going after him is a dead end,” Romanoff stresses, “I know, I’ve tried.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well you didn’t have me before,” You cut the string from the stitches and stand up, “We can find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know something about this Winter Soldier?” They both turn to look at you. Rogers doesn’t look happy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” You nod, “Him and I were partners for a long time. I was there, in Odessa. I drove.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Partners,” Romanoff frowns, her eyes shifting from you to the Captain, “You wanna talk ghost stories Cap, take a look at your new friend. She’s probably the biggest specter of them all. If you were the Winter Soldier’s partner, then that makes you the Winter Shadow.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” You meet her gaze with an impassive one of your own, “Guess it does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rogers licks his lips, his eyes searching your face. You’re not sure what for, or what he finds, but he takes a deep breath. “We can talk about that later. For now we should keep moving. We need to find out what’s on that drive.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>***  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>You flip down the sunvisor in the car and look in the small mirror tucked on the inside. There hadn’t been a mirror in the hospital room, so this was your first chance to assess the damage. Both of your eyes were blackened, and the skin on your nose had split, leaving a horizontal gash across the bridge. It looked like a lot of the swelling had gone down in your jaw though, and your face looks somewhat normal, at least in shape. You wipe at the residual blood on your face and pop the sunglasses back on. Casual. You try not to look at the flowing green numbers on the dashboard and fail. Almost eight minutes had gone by. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You drum your fingers on the steering wheel and look around. You hadn’t been planning on sticking around. In fact you had been planning on ditching the Good Captain as soon as the opportunity presented itself, but now you hesitate. Now that you knew the Soldier was involved, you had a feeling if you stuck around you’d run into him soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Movement catches your eye and your head jerks up to look in the rearview mirror; several black SUVs have pulled up behind you, and you recognize the driver of the first one. Rumlow climbs out, and you note with satisfaction the heavy bandaging on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit.” You turn your face as they walk by and quickly type a warning on the phone Romanoff had given you. That would have to do. You reach for the gearshift and then glance back at the mall. “Come on,” You mutter, wrapping your hand around it, “Time to go.” You didn’t owe these people anything, and if you did it certainly wasn’t enough to get captured over. You put the car into drive, hesitate again, and then slam it into park with another curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two minutes. Two minutes and you were out of there. A minute and twenty-two seconds later they burst through the doors and make a beeline for the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were right,” Romanoff says as they approach the car, “She didn’t bolt. Guess I owe you ten bucks.” You politely pretend not to have heard that and slide over to the passenger seat so Rogers can take the wheel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for the heads up in there,” Rogers pulls away from the curb, “You saved our hides.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You drop your eyes from his face to the ever-increasing speedometer, “So what did you find?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The signal is coming from New Jersey.” It’s either all he knows or all he’ll say, so you turn to look out the window. As you get on the highway Romanoff leans forward, teasing the Captain about his lack of romantic experience. Apparently their getaway required some creative acting from the two heroes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Believe it or not it’s kind of hard to find somebody with shared life experiences,” Rogers says defensively, and you have to hold back a snort. Ain’t that the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that’s alright,” Romanoff tells him lightly, “You just make something up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, like you?” Rogers retorts, and although the remark itself is teasing there’s a cool undertone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. The truth is a matter of circumstances. It’s not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I… Which brings us to the real question,” Romanoff leans forward so her face is between both of yours. “What’s the Winter Soldier’s old partner doing here, with us?” Your jaw clenches. You knew it was only a matter of time before this came up again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rumlow had her,” Rogers says, “She helped me get away. Don’t think I ever got your name by the way.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“(Y/n),” You don’t turn away from the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure we should be trusting her?” Romanoff asks, like you’re not a foot away from her. You can see Rogers glance at you from the corner of your eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we trust you?” He asks bluntly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You consider the question. “I’ve got no beef with you guys,” You turn to look at them, “I had just escaped HYDRA when SHIELD picked me up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Escaped?” Romanoff quirks a brow, “How?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s kind of a long story. I take it you’ve noticed that I’m…” You hesitate, looking for the right word, “a little more durable than your average person.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed,” Rogers sounds almost amused and glances at you, “Some kind of serum, right? We knew HYDRA was experimenting with them back in the day. But then again we also thought HYDRA was destroyed, not doing human experimentation.” His jaw clenches and he looks back at the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not so much. And if I had information to share on the organization I would gladly hand it over. But they didn’t tell us much. As little as possible really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You and the Winter Soldier,” Romanoff urges you back on point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were partnered together pretty often. He wasn’t the nicest guy at first, you know? Silent, cold. He killed without remorse. But then after a while he would change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Change?” Rogers prompts you now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was like the Winter Soldier was cracking through and someone else was showing through,” You struggle to explain, “Maybe whoever he was before that--I don’t know. Sometimes he would remember things about his past. Sometimes he wouldn’t. Sometimes when we were out in the field we would talk about running away. Going underground somewhere. Then…” You swallow, your mouth dry. “They had him brainwashed and frequently wiped his memory. And he would just be the Soldier again. So, I guess a few days ago now, we were out on a mission. He cut out my tracker and took off, left me in the middle of a field in Wisconsin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You left out the part where you had begged him to come with you and he had clocked you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you weren’t brainwashed? Why the change of heart?” Romanoff asks and you smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” Her gaze doesn’t waver and you sigh, giving in. “I had been with HYDRA since they took me as a young teenager. You could probably find record of my disappearance if you’re looking to verify my story. This would have been in, what was it…’53?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“1953?” Rogers cuts in, “There’s no way. That would make you what? 70? 72?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, this coming from you? What are you, like a hundred?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Close,” He smiles, “But there were extenuating circumstances.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“HYDRA freezes it’s operatives when they’re not in use,” You explain, “So that’s why I look like I’m in my twenties. Keeps us fresh.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Awful, yeah. Nothing like being shoved in a freezer and waking up ten years later. Anyways, I’ll spare you the gritty details of how I came to be a super assassin, but when it was over...Let’s just say I didn’t think there was any way of getting out. So I played nice, because that was my only choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Rogers grimaces, and Romanoff falls silent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>***</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t until just after you pass the sign for New Jersey that Rogers speaks again. “I don’t know what we’re getting into here,” his voice is serious now, “But it’s looking pretty serious. If you want to cut and run we won’t stop you.” In the rearview you see Romanoff’s eyes flicker from your face to his, her expression blank. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’d probably be the one to hunt you down if/when you disappear. You’d give her 50/50 odds; it wouldn’t do to underestimate Natasha Romanoff. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been pretty much biding my time until I could find a way to disappear,” You admit, deciding honesty was the best policy when it came to the Good Captain, “But if this Soldier is involved… Well I need to stay. He helped me escape and as poor as my attempt went the least I can do is return the favor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we end up toe to toe with him and you can’t subdue him, we’ll have to take him out,” Romanoff tells you bluntly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It won’t be an issue,” You tell her firmly, “He’ll come quietly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You hoped.</span>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“What is this?” You shut the pick-up’s door and look around curiously, “A military base? Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The file came from these coordinates,” Romanoff holds up her device and looks around confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did I,” Rogers says and you both look at him curiously, “This camp is where I was trained.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Changed much?” Romanoff asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A little.” Rogers looks up at an empty flagpole before he notices you watching him. He quickly looks away, rubbing at the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quite a coincidence,” You mutter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well this is a dead end,” Romanoff sighs. “Zero heat signatures. Zero waves, not even radio. Whoever wrote the file must have used a router to throw people off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers starts to nod and then something catches his attention. You follow his eyes to one of the buildings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Romanoff asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the barracks,” Rogers strides forward and you and Romanoff follow, “This building is in the wrong place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers strikes the lock with his shield. Behind the door is a staircase, and you descend, glancing behind you warily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers reaches out and hits the light switch; the old fluorescents come on one at a time, illuminating an old base. A sense of unease settles over you as you catch sight of the emblem on the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is SHIELD,” Romanoff states, eyebrows raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe where it started,” Rogers agrees. You follow behind the two of them as they walk into a second room where framed portraits hand on one wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Stark’s father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Howard,” Rogers offers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s the girl?” Romanoff asks; Rogers stares at the picture for a second too long before looking away without replying. You eye the picture curiously for a moment, before Steve grabs your attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, (y/n), help me with this,” he calls, bracing his hands against a metal shelf. You cross the room and grab the other end; “If you’re already working in a secret office…” You pull and the shelf slides across the floor with a reluctant screech. Behind the shelf is a door at the end of a short hallway. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You eye the elevator warily before stepping in and Rogers looks at you with something close to amusement. You give him a wry smile, “Still haven’t forgotten my last elevator ride.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t guarantee that this one’ll be better,” Rogers jokes lightly as the elevator descends. The three of you step out as the doors open, and you internally wince as you hear them shut behind you. The lights flicker to life above you as you walk forward. In the center of the room is an old computer. A really old computer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This can’t be the data-point,” Romanoff sounds bemused, “This technology is ancient.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not,” You point towards a flash-drive port and Romanoff shoves it in. The computer comes alive around you and the rest of the lights come on illuminating the vast space around you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Initiate system?” A robotic voice calls out as the same words appear on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Romanoff leans down, typing. “Y-E-S spells yes,” She smiles, “Shall we play a game? It’s from a movie that--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I saw it,” Rogers tells her. Suddenly a voice starts speaking from the speakers as a disjointed green figure appears on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rogers, Steven. Born 1918. Romanoff, Natalia Alianovna. Born 1984. (Y/l/n), (Y/n). Born 1955.” You look up to see a camera moving above you.</span>
  <span>“Creepy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must be some kind of recording…” Romanoff frowns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not a recording, Fräulein. I may not be the man I was when the Captain took me prisoner in 1945, but I am--” The screen to the right shows a photograph of a man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know this thing?” Romanoff asks, crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arnim Zola was a German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. He’s been dead for years,” Rogers slowly walks around the computer, looking behind it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive. In 1972 I received a terminal diagnosis. Science could not save my body. My mind, however, that was worth saving on two hundred thousand feet of data banks. You are standing in my brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gross.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you get here?” Rogers demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Invited.” Zola responds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Operation Paperclip after World War Two. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value.” Romanoff tells Rogers quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They thought I could help their cause. I also helped my own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We thought HYDRA died with the Red Skull, but,” He glances at you, “I guess that’s not true.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place,” You say quietly, as Zola laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>HYDRA was founded on the belief that humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom,” Other screens come to life, flashing images of the war, “What we did not realize, was that if you try to take that freedom, they resist. The war taught us much. Humanity needed to surrender its freedom willingly. After the war, SHIELD was founded and I was recruited. The new HYDRA grew. A beautiful parasite inside SHIELD. For seventy years HYDRA has been secretly feeding crisis, reaping war. And when history did not cooperate, history was changed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you.” Romanoff says and you frown. If what Zola was saying was true, SHIELD couldn’t stop anyone because SHIELD was just HYDRA wearing a different hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Accidents will happen.” The computer screen shows a video of a couple in a car murdered by the Winter Soldier, followed by footage of Nick Fury’s accident. “HYDRA created a world so chaotic that humanity is finally ready to sacrifice its freedom to gain its security. Once the purification process is complete, HYDRA's new world order will arise. We won, Captain. Your death amounts to the same as your Life; a zero sum.” Rogers’ fist smashes through the screen, but the man’s face flickers to life on another screen. “As I was saying…”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>What's on this drive?” Rogers demands.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>Project Insight requires insight. So I wrote an algorithm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” Romanoff asks, her voice urgent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it.” You whirl around as metal doors begin to close over the elevator, Rogers tosses his shield but it just clangs loudly against the doors before he catches it back on his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steve, we got a bogey,” Romanoff breaths. “Short range ballistic. 30 seconds tops.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>Who fired it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>S.H.I.E.L.D.”</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“</b>
  <span>I am afraid I have been stalling,” Romanoff grabs the drive as Rogers looks around frantically, “Captain. Admit it, it's better this way. We're both of us...out of time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rogers!” You drop down, ripping one of the metal grates off the ground. You slide in and just as the explosion erupts around you the other two drop in beside you. You curl into Rogers’ side as he holds his shield above his head while debris tumbles down around you. He lets out a cry of effort and you shift, bracing your arm against the underside of his shield taking some of the weight onto your own muscles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once everything seems to settle you start pushing on the rubble around you. Together you and Rogers manage to push away the wall directly in front of you. Romanoff lulls to the side, unconscious. Rogers says something but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. He repeats it, and you manage to read his lips, “Are you okay?” You nod. He scoops Romanoff up into his arms and steps forward into the wreckage around you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Incoming!” You yell as lights appear in the sky overhead, you grab Rogers’ arm and pull him in the other direction. You leap over chunks of burning rubble, your ears ringing loudly but you can see Rogers in your peripheral. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once you’re out of range you stop, crouching down out of sight. Rogers leans Romanoff against the tree behind you and crouches down next to you. </span>
  <span>You lean in close, so he can hear your next words, “We need somewhere to lay low and figure out our next move. No one connected to SHIELD.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rogers lips brush your ear as he responds, “I think I know a place.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re sure we can trust him?” You ask Rogers for what feels like the hundredth time. He just smiles. </p>
<p>“I’m not even sure we can trust you,” Romanoff huffs, as the door swings open.</p>
<p>“Hey man,” A handsome dark skinned man answers the door.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low.”</p>
<p>“Everyone we know is trying to kill us.” Romanoff chimes in, and you try to give the man a disarming look; at least as well as you can manage while being coated in soot.</p>
<p>He pauses for a moment before replying, “Not everyone,” and opens the door fully, letting the three of you pile in. “Bathroom’s that way.” He offers, “You guys get cleaned up.” </p>
<p>You can’t help but take your time in the shower, letting the hot water relax your sore muscles and lift the dirt and soot from your skin. You step out when the water running off your body finally runs clear and quickly dry off and get dressed. Your hand stops above the door handle, you can hear Rogers and Romanoff talking quietly on the other side. You wait until their conversation lulls and open the door. </p>
<p>“Well, you look better,” Rogers says and you chuckle.</p>
<p>“You should see me on a day where I don’t almost die eighty times,” You tell him dryly, “I’m just happy to know how SHIELD found me so fast. They were on me the moment the Soldier reported back to HYDRA without me.”</p>
<p>A quiet knocking interrupts you, and you all turn to see the stranger standing in the doorway, “I made breakfast,” He announces, “If you guys eat that sort of thing. Sam Wilson by the way.”</p>
<p>“(Y/n),” You tell him.</p>
<p>“Vague,” Sam grins, “Mysterious. I like.” </p>
<p>“She’s ex-HYDRA. A super-soldier, like me,” Rogers says.</p>
<p>“Strong and sexy,” Sam’s grin grows even wider, while you roll your eyes.</p>
<p>“Didn’t you say something about breakfast, Romeo?” You ask pointedly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You eagerly tear into the food, and when you finally glance up your three companions are looking at you with slightly alarmed looks. “Sorry,” You say through a mouthful of bacon, “Literally cannot remember the last time I had hot food.”</p>
<p>Romanoff slides the remainder of her food over to you, without comment. “Anyways, the question is who in SHIELD could launch a domestic missile strike.”</p>
<p>“Pierce.” Rogers says without hesitation. You start on Romanoff’s plate, half listening to the two of them talk until Sam drops a file on the table in front of Rogers. You lean over, curiously to look. “What’s this?”  </p>
<p>“Call it a resume.” </p>
<p>Romanoff picks up a photo of Sam with his para-rescue team and eyes it curiously, “Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you. You didn’t say he was a para-rescue,” She tells Rogers, her tone accusatory. </p>
<p>“Is that Riley?” Steve asks. </p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs. What did you use, a stealth chute?” Romanoff presses.</p>
<p>“No. These.” Sam flips to another photo and you let out a low whistle.</p>
<p>“Cool wings, bird boy.” </p>
<p>“I thought you said you were a pilot,” Rogers says, turning to look at Sam.</p>
<p>“I never said pilot.”</p>
<p>“I can’t ask you to do this Sam. You got out for a good reason.”</p>
<p>“Dude, Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in. Plus we don’t see ladies like this down at the VFW.” Rogers chuckles and shakes his head.</p>
<p>“So where can we get one of those?” </p>
<p>“The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall.” Rogers glances over at Romanoff who shrugs.</p>
<p>“Shouldn’t be a problem.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Romanoff and Rogers jump into planning, you drift away, cupping the mug of hot tea Sam had offered all of you. Settling yourself in an armchair you hold it between your palms, letting the warmth soak into you. You turn your face to the window and watch the clouds move across the rapidly darkening sky. For the first time since you escaped you have a minute to actually breath and absorb the fact that you were actually out of HYDRAs grip. You had escaped. Not only that but you were working with the good guys to do something good. You look down at your hands gripping your cup, lips drawn into a thin line. You knew there was too much blood on your hands to ever even begin to wash it off, but maybe… Maybe you could begin to atone for some of it. Maybe.</p>
<p>“There’s nothing you can’t come back from, you know.” Sam takes the seat across from you, setting his tea down on the side table. “That’s what you’re thinking about right? The things you’ve done?” You don’t answer, “I know the look. There’s nothing so terrible that you can’t be forgiven.”</p>
<p>“I wonder if you really believe that,” You set down your tea, “The wars your veterans fought in? I’ve started them. I’ve slit men’s throats in front of their children. Slaughtered whole families without hesitation. And if HYDRA captured me again tomorrow I’d do it all over again. That makes me a monster.”</p>
<p>If he’s surprised by your words he doesn’t give any indication, he seems perfectly at ease, and after a moment he gives you a small smile. “It doesn’t,” he tells you, “And it’s your guilt that makes you human.” </p>
<p>You’re on your feet before he can even register your movement, the barrel of your gun inches from his face. Sam doesn’t flinch, but Rogers and Romanoff are on their feet a half second later wearing matching expressions of surprise. Eyes on them now you click the safety back on with a disarming smile and then lower the weapon slowly. “Just a little test,” You say mostly to the two Avenger’s ready to strike and then you sit back down across from Sam. “You’ve got some balls,” You tell him, “I’ll give you that.” His lips quirk up and behind him the other’s relief is almost palpable. </p>
<p>“(Y/n),” Rogers says with a slight grimace, “If you could just… not do that. I would really appreciate it. </p>
<p>“Aye aye Captain,” You holster your gun with a grin, “I’m gonna grab an hour or two; wake me up when it’s go time.” </p>
<p>Without waiting for a response you head for the bedroom. From behind you can hear the smile in Romanoff’s voice as she murmurs, “I don’t know Steve, she’s kinda growing on me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You know what you’re doing?” Rogers looks at you seriously and you roll your eyes in response. </p><p>“Yes Captain,” You lean against the wall of the high rise, “Hang on the roof, shake him up a little, wait for you.” </p><p>“And?”</p><p>“Jesus, I won’t shoot him,” You huff, “I can follow orders you know. Besides I would only need to shoot him if he tried to run, and I would just shoot him in the leg. Or the stomach. Either way you would have time to question him…” You trail off at the look on Rogers’ face. “Joking, joking. No shooting. Only threatening. Got it.”</p><p>You set yourself up on the roof, bracing the rifle against the concrete barrier around the edge of the building. You test the scope, though with the reluctance Romanoff had displayed in giving it to you it was sure to be in perfect working condition. It was. You find Sam first sitting at a table in a small outdoor cafe and then swing the barrel over to the restaurant where the target--Sitwell--was eating lunch according to Rogers’ intel.</p><p>Your elbows begin to ache from the uncomfortable position, but you barely register it. You’re used to worse. Another few minutes go by and the door swings open again, and this time you catch sight of the man you’re looking for. You immediately lock him in your sights and follow him as he descends the stairs talking to an older man. </p><p>“(Y/n),” Romanoff’s voice crackles in your earpiece, “You got eyes?” </p><p>“Affirmative,” You reply automatically, hyper focused on the task at hand. </p><p>The older man whispers something in Sitwell’s ear before walking away. Time to move. “Making the call,” Sam says quietly. Sitwell waves waway the men still standing around him and then picks up the phone; you can hear Sam’s side of the conversation through your earpiece. </p><p>“Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear the crab cakes here are delicious,” You snort in amusement, “The good looking guy in the sunglasses, your ten o’clock… There you go. You’re gonna go around the corner to your right. There’s a grey car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a ride.”</p><p>On your cue you flip a switch near the trigger and a red dot appears centered on Sitwell’s tie. He looks down at his chest and then around, eyes wide. </p><p>You take a seat on the edge of the room, gun held across your lap as you ready yourself for act two. After a few minutes the doors fly open and Sitwell comes bursting through, rolling across the pavement. Rogers doesn’t give him a second, as the man scrambles to his feet Rogers follows after him, Romanoff close on his heels. “Tell me about Zola’s algorithm,” he demands as he forces the man backwards.</p><p>“Never heard of it.”</p><p>“What were you doing on the Lemurian Star? Rogers demands. </p><p>“I was throwing up--” Sitwells legs hit the concrete barrier next to where you sit. He shoots you a glance and you can actually see him pale; he obviously knows exactly who you are. Interesting. “I get seasick,” he finishes. Rogers grabs his jacket, forcing him almost over the edge and then a nasty little smile comes onto Sitwell’s face. You watch him, amused; he thought he had the upper hand. Also interesting. “Is this little display meant to insinuate that you’re gonna throw me off the roof? Because that’s not really your style Rogers.” </p><p>“You’re right,” Rogers takes a step back, “It’s not. It’s hers.” He glances over at Romanoff and without missing a beat she kicks the man hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards off the rooftop. You lean over and watch as he falls.</p><p>“Oh wait,” Romanoff says suddenly, “What about that girl from accounting? Laura…?”</p><p>“Lillian,” Rogers corrects her, “Lip piercing right?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Romanoff smiles, “She’s cute.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m not ready for that.”</p><p>Behind you you feel a sudden rush of air and then Sam soars overhead, dropping a screaming Sitwell onto the pavement before landing neatly a few feet from him, wings retracting. You follow Rogers and Romanoff this time as they approach the shaking man.</p><p>“Zola’s algorithm is a program,” Sitwell burst out, still on his hands and knees with one hand held out in front of him defensively, “For choosing Insight’s targets!”</p><p>“What targets?” Rogers asks. You frown, the name ‘Insight’ resonated with you for some reason. You felt like you had heard it before. Then again if SHIELD and HYDRA were practically the same organization then it made sense that you might have heard something about it. Unfortunately nothing more than a faint sense of recognition came to mind.</p><p>“You! A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who’s a threat to HYDRA. Now, or in the future.”</p><p>“The future?” Steve repeats, confused, “How could it know?” </p><p>Sitwell chuckles, rising to his feet, “How could it not? The 21st century is a digital book. Zola taught HYDRA how to read it,” Rogers and Romanoff share a look, while Sitwell continues, “Your bank records. Medical histories. Voting patterns, emails, phone calls, your damn SAT scores. Zola’s algorithm evaluates people’s pasts to predict their futures.”</p><p>“And what then?” Rogers demands.</p><p>“Oh my god,” Sitwell breathes suddenly, “Pierce is going to kill me.”</p><p>“I think you should be more worried about us at the moment,” You swing the barrel of the rifle around, leveling it at his head, “Answer the damn question.” </p><p>A bead of sweat cuts down his cheek as he looks into your eyes. “Then the Insight Helicarriers scratch people off the list. A few million at a time.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It’s a little cramped with three of you in the backseat; your pistol rests across your lap as Sam drives to the Triskelion. Sitwell’s eyes keep drifting to it and then to you. “HYDRA doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell starts again and you roll your eyes.</p><p>“So why don’t you try sticking a cork in it,” Sam offers; you can see his scowl in the rear-view mirror.</p><p>Romanoff leans forward, “Insight’s launching in sixteen hours, we’re cutting it a little close here.”</p><p>“I know,” Rogers sighs, “We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.” Beside you Sitwell stiffens.</p><p>“What? Are you crazy? That’s a terrible, terrible idea--” Your hand tightens around your gun as something hits the roof with a loud thud; a fraction of a second later a familiar metal arm crashes through the window next to you and grabs Sitwell, yanking him over you through the window and tossing him into oncoming traffic. A bullet whizzes through the roof of the car and Romanoff scrambles into the passenger seat while you flatten yourself against the door. </p><p>“Brake!” You flinch as another bullet comes down uncomfortably close to your face. You brace yourself as the car skids to a sudden stop and the Soldier is thrown from the roof. Out the window you see him slow himself with his arm, sparks flying, and then he’s upright again. You look out the back window in time to see another car hit you from behind, throwing you against the back of the driver’s seat. With another thud the Soldier’s back on top of the car. Sam slams on the brakes and lets out a curse as the Soldier reaches through the broken windshield and rips out the steering wheel. </p><p>Romanoff fires through the roof and you lunge forward, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t shoot him,” You snap, “I’ll take care of this.” </p><p>“(Y/n), no--” Rogers starts, but you’re already climbing out the window onto the roof of the car. You steady yourself and then stand, facing off with him. The Soldier stands on the hood of the black SUV behind you and the moment it makes contact with the bumper of Sam’s car again you lunge forward, tackling the Soldier into the road. </p><p>You both roll several feet before you manage to get to your feet. You can’t see his face but his pose doesn’t exactly look welcoming as the two of you stand several feet apart. “You know me, right?” </p><p>“You’re (Y/n),” His voice is completely toneless and you swallow nervously, “You were my partner. You attacked me to get away. You betrayed HYDRA.” </p><p>You blink, surprised. You had expected them to wipe his memory, not feed him some bullshit story. This complicated things. “You helped me get away,” You say, forcing yourself to sound as calm as possible, “You cut out my tracker and you told me to run. And whether you like it or not I’m here to help you now, so let me help you. I can help you get away.” </p><p>“That’s not--” an SUV cuts across the road and several men stream out of the open doors; one throws the Soldier a grenade launcher.</p><p>“Oh fuck--” You dive over the edge of the overpass as he fires. Scrambling to right yourself before you land a truck hits you, sending you tumbling towards the side of the road. “Shit,” you breathe, grasping your shoulder with your uninjured arm. Fucking HYDRA. You brace yourself against one of the concrete support pillars and pop your shoulder back into place.</p><p>Immediately three men converge on your position and you duck behind the pillar, pulling your rifle. You count to three in your head and then roll out, ignoring the protest of your shoulder, and duck behind a nearby car. You take out each of the men with deadly accuracy. You can hear more gunfire nearby and you sprint in that direction, sliding over cars as you pass them.</p><p>“Out of the way!” You hear Romanoff call, “Get out of the way!” You come around the corner in time to see the Soldier shoot Romanoff. Non-fatal. You leap over the car she’s ducking behind and tackle the Soldier away from her before he can get off another shot.</p><p>“I didn’t betray you,” You shot as you dodge the punch he throws in your direction, “Just listen to me Soldier. You know me. Just come with me. I can explain everything.” He hesitates for a moment and then grabs you by the neck, slamming you into the wall of the nearest building. “I really don’t want to hurt you,” you force the words out with your remaining air. You grab his metal arm with both of yours, straining as you push it away enough to give you some wiggle room. “But I will.” You slam your head forward into his, catching your breath as he stumbles backwards, the mask tumbling from his face. </p><p>“Bucky?” Rogers stands a few feet away, frozen in place as he stares at the Soldier.</p><p>The Soldier looks from you to Rogers, confusion coloring his expression, “Who the hell is Bucky?” He raises his gun and you shove Rogers out of the way, the bullet flying so close to your ear you feel the air displacement. You duck behind Rogers’ shield as the Soldier empties his clip into the unyielding metal. Before he can reload Sam swoops in, kicking the Soldier off of his feet. Sam lands behind you and you ready your rifle, a frown on your face. If you had to put one in his leg to calm him down, so be it. </p><p>“Duck!” You hear Romanoff shout and then a grenade flies overhead towards the Soldier. </p><p>“No!” You cover your face as a wave of debris flies over you, “Where did he go?” You demand, your eyes slit as you peer through the smoke.</p><p>Sirens erupt around you then as SHIELD agents surround the area, guns at the ready. And who should approach you than your old pal Rumlow. Rogers should have let you kill him when you have the chance. You start to raise your gun but pause after glancing at your companions. Rogers looks like he’d seen a ghost and Romanoff is clutching her bulletwound, her face pale. </p><p>“Drop the shield Cap! Weapons on the ground--all of you. On your knees! Get down!” He kicks out Rogers’ legs and he falls to his knees. Someone grabs the back of your neck roughly, forcing you to the ground, and then kicks your gun out of your hand. </p><p>“Get your hand off of me,” You growl, “And I might consider letting your family live.” </p><p>“Hey, look who it is,” Rumlow walks over to you, a cocky smile on his lips, “My old pal. How about you do yourself a favor and shut the fuck up?” He swings his gun and slams it into your mouth. </p><p>“I can’t wait to kill you Rumlow,” You tell him, a smile on your lips as blood seeps from between them, “I know you know who I am. What I can do. Rumlow, what I’m going to do to you--” </p><p>The gun smashes into your cheekbone this time, “Get them in the van,” he turns away from you, “Now!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That was smart,” Sam deadpans, “Did that make you feel better?” </p>
<p>“Not as good as it’s going to feel when I rip his fucking heart out,” You snap, bringing your cuffed hands up to wipe the blood from your mouth. You turn to Rogers who sits next to you staring at his cuffed hands with slumped shoulders and instantly your rage begins to dissipate. You lean into him, bumping your shoulder with his. “Talk to me Rogers,” you say gently, “You recognized him. The Soldier.” </p>
<p>He doesn’t respond at first, his eyes not moving from his lap. But you wait and finally he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. He looks about a hundred years older than he had hours ago. “I knew him. His name is Bucky Barnes. We grew up together. Served together. But he looked at me like he didn’t even know me.” </p>
<p>“How’s that even possible?” Sam demands, clearly listening in, “It was like seventy years ago.” </p>
<p>“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did must have helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and…”</p>
<p>“None of that’s your fault, Steve,” Romanoff assures him, but he shakes his head.</p>
<p>“Even when I had nothing I had Bucky.”</p>
<p>“I told you,” You remind him, “They wiped his memory. Brainwashed him. Of course he wouldn’t recognize you. </p>
<p>“Yeah, speaking of, didn’t really seem like your boyfriend was happy to see you,” Romanoff says archly, but you can hear a tremor in her voice. You look at her ashen face and the blood leaking from her shoulder with concern. </p>
<p>“We need to get a doctor here,” Sam looks at the guards angrily, “We don’t put pressure on that wound and she’s gonna bleed out here in the truck.”</p>
<p>One of the guards pulls out an electric rod and you tense, ready for the oncoming attack. To your surprise the guard attacks the second guard and pulls the helmet from their head, revealing themselves to be a young woman. “Ahh,” She sighs in relief, “That thing was squeezing my brain. I see you’ve made some new friends Cap,” She doesn’t look particularly approving, “You’re all coming with me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>You lean against the wall outside the hospital room as Romanoff and Rogers approach Nick Fury’s bedside. You expected the director of SHIELD to be good but not survive an assassination from the Winter Soldier and fake his own death good. </p>
<p>“So you were pretty good out there,” Sam says as he moves to stand next to you, “Not bad at all.”</p>
<p>“Thanks for the review,” You tell him, your lips curling up at the corners, “You seemed pretty rusty yourself. But I mean, you were retired for a while right? I’m sure you don’t see a lot of action these days.”</p>
<p>“Damn girl, you’re ice cold, you know that?” Sam shakes his head in mock offense before his expression sobers, “You okay though?” </p>
<p>“Sorry, I’m confused here. Are you trying to be my therapist or are you trying to fuck me?” You cock your head, “It’s coming off a little weird that you want to do both.”</p>
<p>Sam seems unfazed, “I just know that couldn’t have been easy for you. Him thinking you were the enemy.” </p>
<p>“Sam,” You say gently, “Let me tell you something.” You lean in closer, your voice dropping so only he could hear you, “Remember earlier when I pulled that gun on you? You didn’t flinch because you thought you knew I wouldn’t pull the trigger. You were wrong. I’d prefer not to kill you. But that’s all that is. A preference,” You can hear Rogers coming down the hallway and drop your voice even lower, “So next time you feel like trying to psychoanalyze me ask yourself, ‘would I prefer to stay alive?’ and if the answer is yes, shut your fucking mouth.” You clap him on the shoulder and turn away as Rogers enters.</p>
<p>“So what’s going on?”</p>
<p>“Nothing good,” Rogers runs a hand through his hair wearily, “Come on. Fury’s got some information for us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, ‘Peace wasn’t an achievement, it was a responsibility.’” Nick Fury tells you all, looking at a photo of Pierce, “See it’s stuff like this that gives me trust issues.”</p>
<p>“We have to stop the launch,” Romanoff says, ignoring his anecdote. </p>
<p>“I don’t think the Council’s accepting my calls anymore,” Fury turns and opens a case containing three chips.</p>
<p>“What’s that?” Sam asks.</p>
<p>“Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they’ll triangulate with Insight satellites before becoming fully weaponized. We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own.” Fury says.</p>
<p>“But one or two won’t cut it. We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are going to die,” The agent--Hill continues. </p>
<p>“We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA,” Fury says, “We need to get past them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what’s left…” </p>
<p>“We aren’t salvaging anything,” Rogers cuts in, “We’re not just taking down the carriers Nick, we’re taking down SHIELD.”</p>
<p>“SHIELD had nothing to do with it,” Fury states, but Rogers is not having it.</p>
<p>“You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. SHIELD has been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed.”</p>
<p>“Why do you think we’re meeting in this cave?” Fury demands, “I noticed.”</p>
<p>“And how many paid the price before you did?” Rogers’ fists clench, and Fury sighs.</p>
<p>“Look, I didn’t know about Barnes.”</p>
<p>“Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.”</p>
<p>“He’s right.” Hill tells Fury gravely. Fury looks from Romanoff to Sam to you, and Sam shrugs.</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me, I do what he does, just slower.” Sam quips.</p>
<p>“Do we really have time for this?” You interrupt and Fury sighs.</p>
<p>“Well...Looks like you’re giving the orders now, Captain.”</p>
<p>“(Y/n),” Rogers holds you back before you head off. “Can I talk to you for a second?” </p>
<p>“What’s up?” </p>
<p>“I know I said this before but now…” Rogers frowns, “Look, I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. If you want to take off, I understand. I’m sure you walking into a HYDRA stronghold isn’t your idea of a good time, and if we survive this, I’ll help you to start over, if you want.”</p>
<p>“I appreciate the sentiment,” You tell him, “But Sitwell was right, HYDRA doesn’t like leaks. I’ve been seen with you. There’s a pretty solid chance that they’ve put my name in the Project Insight algorithm. I might as well go down swinging. So I’m with you, till the end of the line Steve.” You turn to walk away and he grabs your shoulder bruisingly hard, spinning you back towards him, “Rogers, what the hell--”</p>
<p>“What did you just say?” He demands, still gripping your shoulder.</p>
<p>“I said I would fucking help you,” You snap, slapping his hand off of you, “What’s your problem?</p>
<p>“Right. Yes. Sorry,” Steve shakes his head and takes a deep breath, “Till the end of the line. It’s something Buck and I used to say to each other.”</p>
<p>You freeze for a moment and then the words rush out of your mouth,“The Soldier used to say it sometimes too,” A smile spreads across your face, “The same thing. That’s where I picked it up Steve, from him.”</p>
<p>“He’s still in there,” Rogers says weak with relief, a smile on his own lips.</p>
<p>“He’s still in there,” You agree, “And we’re bringing him home.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You freeze as Rogers is almost thrown off the side of the Helicarrier by the Soldier. The Soldier grabs Sam by one of his wings and throws him to the ground. </p>
<p>“Sam!” You call into the headset, “Do not engage! Repeat, do not engage! Get me up there!” It’s silent for a moment and you shift nervously before Sam dives off the edge, avoiding fire from the Soldier. Sam grabs you around the waist before soaring upwards, towards the Helicarrier. A wire shoots past you and hits one of Sam’s wings, yanking him to the ground with you trapped beneath him. You hear a metallic groan as one of his wings are ripped off and then he’s off of you, flying off the edge of the carrier. You grab the Soldier’s leg, yanking him to the ground and roll on top of him, pinning him down with your weight.</p>
<p>“Will you just listen for a second?” You growl as he struggles, “I’m not your--” The Soldier slams his head forward, his eyes meeting yours before his forehead hits your nose with a sickening crunch. You weren’t aware of releasing his arm until the metal one comes up and hits your jaw, sending you skidding back on to the pavement with dark spots blooming in front of your eyes.</p>
<p>Dimly you can hear Sam and Rogers talking through your headset. They were both okay. That was good. You try and blink away the spots in your vision, and you succeed in time to see the Soldier hovering above you, gun in hand. You roll to the side as he fires two shots where your head had been just moments before and scramble to your feet. You grab his wrist as he fires another shot, aiming it down while you swing your elbow around to catch his jaw. </p>
<p>The soldier swings his leg and catches yours, but you use your momentum as you go down to knock his feet out from under him as well. You grab his metal arm and twist it behind his back, pinning him down once again. “Come on,” You tell him, “You know me. We’re partners--” Wiggling his free arm loose he flips himself over, landing on top of you and knocking the wind out of you. He slams his head backwards, nailing you again, and then he’s on his feet, gun pointed in your direction. His eyes watch you warily as you look up at him, panting. </p>
<p>“I know you’re probably confused--” You cut off with a sharp cry as he pulls the trigger. Your tactical suit had been due for repair before you had taken your leave of HYDRA, and at this point was looking threadbare at best. His bullet goes right through the material and into the meat of your thigh, leaving a trail of white hot pain in its wake. </p>
<p>“Stay down.” </p>
<p>You let your head fall back onto the hard pavement beneath you as he turns and walks away, your leg burning with agonizing pain. In your earpiece you can hear the sound of Rogers engaging the Soldier down below and you wince as you push yourself up into a sitting position. You slip your combat knife from the holster on your thigh and cut a strip of fabric from the arm of the top layer of your tactical suit. You steel yourself against the pain as you methodologically tie it around the bullet wound, pulling it taught to slow the flood of blood. </p>
<p>You take a deep breath before you slowly climb to your feet, testing your injured limb. Putting weight on it was agonizing; but you force the sensation to the back of your mind. You would have plenty of time to lick your wounds later if you survived this, if not, well it wouldn’t bother you for much longer anyway.</p>
<p>You spot the pair of soldiers on the lower level, just in time to see the Solder heave Rogers’ shield at him, sending him tumbling backwards. You take a deep breath and let it out before you throw yourself over the edge to the bottom of the carrier. Your leg collapses the moment you land and you hit the ground, pain shooting up your hip as it hits a metal rivet in the flooring.</p>
<p>You hear bullets ringing off of Rogers’ shield and you force yourself up again. As you approach you see that he’s gained the upper hand as he has the Soldier pinned to the ground. Once the Soldier drops the chip Rogers rises to his feet, and sees you.</p>
<p>“Go!” You shout to him, “I’ve got him.” You drop down to your knees next to him, rolling him over onto his back. You push back his hair, pressing two fingers against the flesh of his neck. A steady throb meets your gentle probing and you let out a sigh of relief.</p>
<p>His fist hits your jaw like a freight truck and sends you tumbling to the side. You start to get up and he puts another bullet, this one in your abdomen, just above your hip bone. You fumble for your gun and he kicks it away from you, leaving two of your fingers broken. Satisfied, he turns away from you and begins firing at Steve. From the sound he makes, at least some of them hit their mark.</p>
<p>“Soldier,” You call, your hand pressed to your hip. He glances back at you and you give him a shaky smile, “I know you know I’m not your enemy. Otherwise you would have killed me topside.” </p>
<p>“You belong to HYDRA. You’ll be taken back in.” </p>
<p>You snort weakly at that, “Bullshit. You have orders to kill me on sight. I know how HYDRA operates. But you didn’t. You know me. Now let us save you.” </p>
<p>The Soldier stares at you for a moment before he turns away and fires another shot; this time Rogers collapses, a red stain blooming on the fabric of his suit. You’re out of time; before the Soldier can take another shot you pull your tactical knife and bury it into the meat of his calf. He lets out a cry of surprise and falls to one knee next to you. Rogers struggles to his feet and shoves the chip into place, immediately you hear Hill in your ear, “Okay guys, get out of there.” </p>
<p>Rogers looks down at you on the ground, and his face looks white against the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. You nod at your injury and shake your head.</p>
<p>“Fire now,” Steve responds, his voice breathless.</p>
<p>“But Steve--” </p>
<p>“Do it!” He snaps, “Do it now!” As the first shot rings out the Soldier launches into action once again. He pulls the knife from his leg and tosses it away from you before grabbing you by your throat and lifting you to your feet. The helicarrier shudders as it’s hit and metal starts falling around you. You manage to twist out of the Soldier’s grip and throw yourself backwards. The pain when you hit the ground threatens to overwhelm you but you keep moving, rolling out of the way as a twisted car sized piece of metal hits the ground just inches away from where you had landed a few seconds earlier. </p>
<p>You start to get to your feet and something hits you in the back, pinning you onto your stomach. You can see the Soldier several feet away, struggling under a large piece of fallen rubble; he meets your eyes and you can see the first vestiges of fear in his own. Rogers stumbles to your level and starts in your direction.</p>
<p>“Get him,” You shout, waving him away with the arm not trapped at your side, “I’m fine!”</p>
<p>He looks at you once doubtfully before heading in the direction of his old friend. You try to stand up but can’t lift the metal that had you pinned. Instead you twist your body, testing your range of movement. You manage to get one foot cocked under you and you slowly push your way forward. The wounds on your hip and thigh scream in protest as you drag them across the ground and your fingers are white hot as you push them into the ground to give yourself the leverage you need to escape.</p>
<p>“You know me,” You hear Rogers say and you look over to see the Soldier freed from the rubble. </p>
<p>“No I don’t!” The Soldier screams in response, lunging forward and hitting him hard. Rogers stumbles but stays on his feet.</p>
<p>“Bucky,” He tries again, “You’ve known me your whole life.” The Soldier swings again and you resume your efforts to free yourself. </p>
<p>“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes,” Rogers pants. </p>
<p>“Shut up!” He hits him a third time, and for the third time Rogers climbs to his feet. </p>
<p>“Cap!” You shout, halfway out now, “Just go!” </p>
<p>He ignores you, “I’m not going to fight you,” You watch in horror as he drops his shield and it falls through a hole in the bottom of the carrier, “You’re my friend.” </p>
<p>With a cry the Soldier rushes him, tackling him to the ground, “You’re my mission!” He says, before pounding his fist into Rogers’ jaw repeatedly, “You’re. My. Mission!” </p>
<p>“Then finish it,” Rogers says quietly and you watch surprised as the Soldier hesitates, arm cocked back, “Cause I’m with you to the end of the line.”</p>
<p>You finally slip out and you cross the space between you in two short strides, tackling the Soldier away from Rogers before he could decide whether he was going to finish it after all. When the two of you hit the ground the floor beneath you gives way, sending you three of you tumbling from the carrier.</p>
<p>The water feels like cement when you hit it and you flail uselessly as you try to right yourself. The force of your tackle had knocked the wind out of you and you hadn’t had time to catch your breath. You pay for that now as you inadvertently take a breath, water rushing down into your throat. Lungs and throat burning you make a last ditch effort and propel yourself in a random direction, praying it was the surface. You hit something in the water, probably a piece of the ship and know you hadn’t been heading in the right direction; black butterflies bloom in front of your eyelids and you let your body go slack. This is okay. You were dying, but you could accept that. </p>
<p>It was disorienting to say the least when your head breaches the surface. You let out a sputtering cough, water pouring from your mouth as you empty your lungs of the cool liquid. It took a second to realize that you were being dragged to shore. You peel open your burning eyes and see the blue of the Captain’s uniform. He was okay. You were okay. </p>
<p>You hit the sand with a whimpering sigh, your side and leg both white hot with pain. You can see the blurred outline of the Soldier above you, “You know we’re not your enemies,” Your voice comes out soft and raspy, “You wouldn’t have pulled us out otherwise. Please. Let us help you,” Your voice breaks, “Let me help you.” </p>
<p>He stares at you a moment, his expression broken, and then turns away. “No!” You try and climb to your feet, but you slump back down as your leg goes out from under you. “Do not leave me here!” You let out an angry scream that tears at your throat, but he still doesn’t turn back.</p>
<p>An angry sob escapes your throat and then he’s gone. You turn your attention back to Rogers. You’re too weak to get up so you drag yourself over to him and to your relief he’s still breathing. You pull him half into your lap, pressing your hands over the injuries you can see. “It’s okay Steve,” You tell him quietly, “You’re okay. Someone’s gonna come help you.” </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While Steve was shipped off to a hospital, Natasha patches you up in a nearby motel. “I’m not a doctor you know,” She reminds you as she finishes the stitches in your leg. </p>
<p>“I’m not big on doctors anyway,” You sit up as she rolls backwards in the office chair to toss her bloodied gloves into the trash can. “Thanks.” </p>
<p>“Don’t mention it,” She turns towards the door, “I’m going to advise Rogers not to go after him,” She pauses, “And I like you, so I’m going to advise you to do the same.” </p>
<p>“He’s not going to listen to you,” You tell her.</p>
<p>“And neither are you,” She turns to smile at you, “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve been data-mining HYDRA’s files. Looks like a lot of rats didn’t go down with the ship. I’m headed to Europe tonight, wanted to ask if you’d come.” Why Fury wanted to meet you guys at his own grave, you’d never understand.</p>
<p>“There’s something I gotta do first.” Steve says, and Fury nods.</p>
<p>“How about you Wilson? Could use a man with your abilities.” </p>
<p>“I’m more of a soldier than a spy.”</p>
<p>“(Y/n)?” You startle at being addressed. </p>
<p>“I’ve had enough HYDRA for a lifetime,” You tell him carefully, “I think I’m just going to lay low for a while.”</p>
<p>“Alright then,” Fury says, and shakes each of your hands, “Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me right here.” As he walks away, Romanoff walks over.</p>
<p>“You should be honored,” She tells Steve, “That’s about as close as he gets to saying thank you.”</p>
<p>“You’re not going with him?” </p>
<p>“No.” She smiles.</p>
<p>“Not staying here?”</p>
<p>“I blew all my covers. I gotta go figure out a new one.”</p>
<p>“That might take awhile.”</p>
<p>Natasha smiles, “I’m counting on it. That thing you asked for, I called in a few favors from Kiev,” She hands Steve a file, “Will you do me a favor? Call that nurse.”</p>
<p>“She’s not a nurse.”</p>
<p>“And you’re not a SHIELD agent,” Romanoff counters.</p>
<p>“What was her name again?” </p>
<p>“Sharon. She’s nice.” She leans up and plants a kiss on Steve’s cheek. “Be careful Steve. You might not want to pull on that thread.” As she walks away Steve opens the file, and you catch a glimpse of the Soldier’s face.</p>
<p>“You’re going after him?” Sam asks, and Steve looks up.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to come with me.”</p>
<p>“I know. When do we start?” Sam grins and you feel your own lips rise in a smile.</p>
<p>“I think now is a pretty good time,” You say, and Steve looks at you in surprise, “Don’t look at me like that. We’re both looking for him. Might as well look together.” Steve claps the hand not in a sling onto your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. </p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey (Y/n),” Steve greets you as you walk up the path towards the towering building with a large ‘A’ suspended on the side, “It’s been a while.” </p>
<p>“Careful there, I might start to think you’re missing me now,” You smile, coming to a stop in front of him. </p>
<p>“Just a little,” He admits, “Can I take your bag?” </p>
<p>“Nah, I got it,” You hoist it higher onto your shoulder as you start walking towards the door, “I’d come around more, but I am technically a terrorist in the eyes of the United States government. “</p>
<p>“Well you’re safe here,” Steve holds open the door and you walk inside into a clean well-lit lobby. You stop in front of an elevator and he presses the button. “So where have you been?”</p>
<p>“Mmm, all over really. Afghanistan, Columbia, Hungary. Syria,” You sigh, “Bust on bust on bust.” </p>
<p>“Looks like you ran into some kind of trouble though,” Steve nods towards the half healed bruise around your left eye, “You getting slow on me?” </p>
<p>“Ha ha,” You laugh humorlessly as you follow him into the elevator, “You should see the other guys. Actually… You’d probably prefer not to. Turns out I did a hit on some cartel guy last time I was in South America and apparently his son was out for revenge,” You shrug, “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure,” The elevator stops and you step out. Steve leads you to a living area outfitted with comfortable looking sofas, a low end table, and a large TV. “So you really have been all over... Afghanistan? Syria?”</p>
<p>“Hey, not my first choices for vacation spots either,” You unshoulder your pack and drop it onto the table, “And complete wastes of time. Hungary on the other hand, while also a bust, did yield some information I think you might be interested in.” </p>
<p>“Excuse me,” A voice interrupts you, and you spin on your heel, pistol clenched in your hand. You stare down the sights at a familiar face, and you can’t place it until he continues talking, “Okay kid, I’m not really a fan of people pointing guns at me inside my building, so put it down before I make you put it down.” </p>
<p>“Right, sorry,” You drop your weapon back into your thigh holster, giving Stark what you hope is a charming smile, “Force of habit, won’t happen again.” </p>
<p>Your charm must fall flat because Stark turns to Steve with a frown, “Rogers? Care to explain the armed street urchin?” </p>
<p>“Tony, this is (Y/n). Remember? She helped me with that Insight situation a while back?”</p>
<p>“Mm, vaguely rings a bell,” Stark cocks his chin up, “But I’m still not getting why there’s an ex-HYDRA operative dripping filth on the floor. Not to mention she shouldn’t even have been able to get in here without triggering the security protocols. Jarvis?” </p>
<p>“Oh, can it, Stark,” You recognize Natasha’s lilting voice before she pushes past Stark into the room, “I gave her access, per the Captain’s orders.” </p>
<p>“Romanoff,” You smile.</p>
<p>“Word on the street is someone took down a Columbian drug syndicate. And you didn’t invite me?” </p>
<p>“You know, it was a little last minute. Next time I’ll be sure to call.”</p>
<p>“Promises, promises,” Romanoff’s lips quirk up.</p>
<p>A low whistle comes from the doorway and you turn your head to see Sam leaning against the doorframe, “I must have died and gone to heaven,” You raise your eyebrows, “Cause you’re an angel if I’ve ever seen one.” </p>
<p>“I hate your new friends,” Stark tells Steve, “You,” He points a finger in your direction, “Don’t touch anything.” </p>
<p>“Charming,” You note as Stark walks out of the room.</p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry about that,” Steve runs a hand through his hair, “He can be a little…”</p>
<p>“I get it. I wouldn’t trust me either. You guys are insane,” You give them a wry smile, “Now, you’re sure this room is secure?” </p>
<p>“Stark’s probably listening in but otherwise,” Steve gestures for you to continue and you nod.</p>
<p>“No word on our frosty friend, but I did hear something in my travels. Rumors on a certain missing scepter.” </p>
<p>“Loki’s scepter?” Steve asks, eyes widening.</p>
<p>“I mean how many scepters from outer space do you come by on an average day? I couldn’t dig too deep cause--you know--gotta fly under the radar, but I heard tell of a handful of HYDRA outposts who may have had the scepter at one point or another.”</p>
<p>“Beautiful and brilliant,” Sam flashes a smile and you toss him the file.</p>
<p>“I know you said your team’s been doing raids so you may have already hit a few. But hopefully that information can narrow down your list.”</p>
<p>“This is...great,” Steve says, scanning the file after Sam hands it over, “I’ll get this info to Stark. Any place in particular you have a good feeling about?”</p>
<p>“Well…” You tap your bottom lip with your index finger, “Take a look at Sokovia. I’d say of any of the places it’s got a lot of red flags.”</p>
<p>“Thank you for this,” Steve says seriously.</p>
<p>“Glad to be of assistance,” You tell him, “I’ll let you know if I find anything else.” You grab the strap of your pack and swing in onto your back.</p>
<p>“You’re taking off again?” Natasha asks, a slight frown on her lips.</p>
<p>“You know me, always moving,” You smile, “Besides, I have a feeling Stark’s hospitality is already growing thin. Not to mention I have dozens of ice cold leads to follow up on.” </p>
<p>“We could use an extra set of hands,” Steve says, “Let Sam take point on your other leads and you can stay a few weeks. Take some down time. I’ll deal with Stark.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know if I would consider storming HYDRA bases to be downtime,” You joke. No one laughs. “Steve,” You sigh, “I’m not an ‘Avenger’.”</p>
<p>“I know, I know,” Steve nods his head sheepishly, “I’m not asking you to join up. I’m just asking for your help. Friend to friend.”</p>
<p>You look over at Sam, “You think you can handle it?”</p>
<p>“Your ice cold leads?” Sam scoffs, “Yeah, I think I’ll manage.”</p>
<p>You chew at the inside of your cheek as you consider Steve’s offer before sighing, “Fine. I’ll stick around for a week or two. Happy?”</p>
<p>“Getting there,” Steve grins, “Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A scream rips through the air, jerking you to wakefulness; the door to your room slams open and light assaults your eyes, blinding you. Instinctively you grab the gun from beneath your pillow, thumbing the safety off and cocking it in one smooth motion.</p>
<p>“Whoa, (Y/n)!” Steve’s voice snaps you back to reality and you thumb the safety back on before letting the gun drop from your shaking hands. Between the soft pants escaping your lips and the hammering of your heart in your chest you quickly deduce what had happened; the scream had been you. Another nightmare. </p>
<p>“Jesus Christ Steve,” You say weakly, pushing a lock of damp hair from your face, “I almost shot you.” </p>
<p>“Are you alright?” He moves the gun to the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed. You hide your hands under the blanket so he can’t see them tremble.</p>
<p>“I’m fine, I just--” You pause, trying to think of a reasonable reason you were screaming in the middle of the night. Nothing immediately comes to mind. </p>
<p>“Nightmares?” Steve offers, and you slowly nod, “I get them too. I think the first month after I came out of the ice I woke up screaming every night.”</p>
<p>“That must have been difficult.” </p>
<p>“I never expected to wake up. And to wake up after so long… Everyone I knew was dead, and I was grieving for someone who died sixty-six years before. Well. At least I thought he did.” Steve sighs.</p>
<p>“What happened to him?”</p>
<p>“We were in a fire fight on this train, trying to stop HYDRA and he fell. I tried to reach him but I was too late. If I would have thought even for a second he could still be alive I would never have left. Even after the serum I don’t know how he could have survived that fall.” Steve chuckles suddenly, “I remember after I rescued him from HYDRA we were in this bar, celebrating. This woman I knew, Peggy Carter, shot him down. Don’t think it had ever happened to him before, he said he was turning into me.”</p>
<p>Your lips curl into a smile, “Yeah? He was a ladies man? I can see it.”</p>
<p>“Do you think he’s still the same person in there?” His jaw clenches as if he’s trying to retroactively take back the words.</p>
<p>You lower your gaze, taking a moment to find the right words. “No. How could he be? Are you the same person you were before going into the ice?” Steve’s lips press together, “But… That doesn’t mean he’s not still your Bucky. He was quiet. Reserved. Charming at times,” You smile, “Sometimes I would even go as far as to say he kept a sense of humor. A bad one, but, you know.” Steve smiles at that, “He was often torn between morality and the mission. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be here right now. I probably wouldn’t even be alive. He was the only thing I had.” You bite your lip and avoid Steve’s gaze, silently blaming your nightmare; if you hadn't been so shaken you never would’ve shared that information.</p>
<p>“Were you two…” He trails off and you look up at him surprised.</p>
<p>“No,” you shake your head, “It wasn’t like that. But after what we’ve been through, him and I are family. I will save him.” You look away from Steve’s piercing gaze, “You should get back to bed. Thanks for checking on me. You didn’t need to do that.” </p>
<p>Steve stands at your clear dismissal and walks towards the door. He pauses, and for a brief second part of you hopes he’s going to come back. “Good night (Y/n),” He says faintly, and then the door is closed behind him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>***</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You tap the button on the remote repeatedly, catching brief glimpses of one infomercial before another takes its place. You were getting well acquainted with late night television and god damn was it terrible. You catch a glimpse of the glowing green numbers on the cable box: 4:09. At this point you might as well just stay up, Steve would be getting up for his morning run soon, maybe you’d join him. The T.V. lands on some cartoon and you heave the remote onto the sofa, grabbing the bottle of whiskey next to you instead. You untwist the cap and chug half the bottle in one go, relishing the burn as it slides down your throat. Your eyes unfocus as you watch the colors move across the screen; with the T.V. on mute you can’t really follow the story anyways. You sip from the bottle. Footsteps grab your attention and you look over the back of your chair to see Stark walk in. </p>
<p>He blinks in surprise and then sighs, “Oh, it’s you.” He pushes the remote out of the way and falls onto the sofa holding his glass of amber liquid so it doesn’t spill. He glances at the bottle of liquor in your own hand and raises his eyebrows, “Thought you Super Soldiers couldn’t get drunk. Fast metabolisms or something.”</p>
<p>“Nothing’s impossible,” You take another swig, “If your metabolism is four times as fast you just have to drink four times as much.” </p>
<p>“Modern problems require modern solutions,” Stark stares at the T.V. and lapses into silence. He doesn’t move to unmute the T.V. either. You find yourself watching the light flicker onto his face instead of the screen. It’s more interesting. “You know, I’ve almost died twice now,” he says casually, taking a sip of his drink, “And I don’t mean close calls. I mean kiss your ass and say goodbye.” His eyes don’t leave the screen. “You ever experience anything like that?” </p>
<p>“Yes,” You lick your lips, “Couple times.” </p>
<p>“Yeah?” Stark turns to look at you now, “What happened?” </p>
<p>You hesitate, reluctant to open up to Tony Stark, but the look on his face spurs you forward. You pull the collar of your t-shirt down, exposing a round scar just above your left breast. “Less than an inch from my heart. Still almost didn’t make it.” The Soldier had finished the bullet out himself as you bit down on the handle of your combat knife.</p>
<p>You pull up the bottom of your shirt now, showing him a nasty slash across your stomach. If Romanoff wanted to compare bikini-killing scars, you were pretty sure yours took the cake. “This guy pretty much gutted me in the middle of nowhere in Ukraine. I laid in the snow for hours, just waiting to see if hypothermia or the blood loss would take me first.” The Soldier had found you buried in the snow and carried you to the extraction point, keeping pressure on the wound. </p>
<p>Your shirt falls from your fingers. You know you don’t have to continue, but the words feel like poison inside you. You take another drink; the bottle’s three-quarters of the way gone now. “But the worst was the serum,” Your words are barely audible but you can tell he’s hanging on every one of them, “They had us all lined up on this bench, guns held on us. One boy, he couldn’t have been older than sixteen, he tried to run and they shot him right there. They injected us one at a time; and as they each seized and fell to the ground and choked on their own blood, I just kept staring at that first boy, thinking maybe I should force their hand, let them shoot me, because it seemed better than--” You swallow, “I couldn’t bring myself to move. As they shoved the needle in my arm I knew I wasn’t going to survive. I didn’t want to. But I did. I was twelve years old.” </p>
<p>“Jesus Christ,” Stark whispers, “I--” He shakes his head. “How do you deal that? How do you keep going?” </p>
<p>You finally realize why he had asked. He was looking for guidance. Or reassurance. You didn’t know how to give either.</p>
<p>“You just do,” You look down at the bottle in your hand and then give him a wry smile. “But I’m sitting here drinking at four in the morning watching Bob Squarepants, so maybe I’m not the best person to ask.” </p>
<p>“It’s Spongebob Squarepants,” Stark huffs, and you both laugh. “Alright, maybe you’re not so bad. Maybe.” </p>
<p>“Honestly? Coming from you--nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” </p>
<p>“Funny,” Stark smiles, “You’re funny. That’s nice. Bunch of uptight old--”</p>
<p>“Good morning Steve,” You cut in as Rogers appears in the doorframe, frowning at the two of you. </p>
<p>“I was just telling (Y/n) how glad we are that she’s gonna be helping out,” Stark stands up, “You know, young blood and all that.” </p>
<p>“Right,” Steve lets him pass through the doorway; you drop the bottle to the ground softly and then slide it under the chair with your foot. “You up early or on your way to bed?” He asks you, leaning against the doorframe. </p>
<p>You climb to your feet with a grin, “I’m actually on my way to kick your ass on the track.”</p>
<p>“Yeah? Love to have you.”</p>
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